


Alabanza

by wendlaswound



Category: In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: Gen, its not that sad I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 12:13:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11440638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendlaswound/pseuds/wendlaswound
Summary: just a little drabble about Abuela's funeral. tumblr request





	Alabanza

It was a slow morning at the bodega.

            For the last week they had all been slow mornings. And not only for the slight lack of customers. The ones that came in were slumped and dulled and dragging, just like Usnavi was. But he slapped on a smile and tried to pretend otherwise.

            Someone had to try to liven everyone else up; to make them a little more willing to get up in the mornings.

            And if Abuela wasn’t there… then…

            Coffee would have to do.

            And for Usnavi in the bodega, mixing up people’s drinks and taking orders, it was almost like she was still there…

            _“Don’t boil that too long!”_

_“Usnavi, have you eaten anything today?”_

_“Don’t forget to take out the trash!”_

_“Where’s Sonny? What’s that boy up to?”_

All of his reminders rang through his mind in her voice, as if she were still fluttering about, checking up on everyone, always smiling, always singing.

            He would turn around or look up and there would be no source to the voice in his head and his gaze would drop and everything would blur through his vision for the next couple minutes.

            Not many people seemed to notice, and if they did, they had their own problems too.

            To the few who asked if he was okay, Usnavi said he was, brightened his smiled, handed them their order.

            But he wasn’t. He really wasn’t.

* * *

 

            Nina hadn’t been doing well, either. The first couple days after it all, Usnavi found her up on the fire escape, just sitting there unmoving for hours and hours. He brought her hot chocolate and blankets and they stayed up there and said nothing through the night, into the morning.

            Grief was funny that way.

            Usnavi hadn’t seen Nina in a year and still, they couldn’t say anything to each other.

            Nina wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk. And she felt Usnavi wasn’t either. But they didn’t need to be talking to be together, to lean on each other’s shoulders and share a bit of the weight so it wouldn’t crush them both.

            Abuela had always pushed them both to be the best they could and that was enough, as long as they had a dream and tried to reach it they were succeeding. That when they said they wanted something, that’s what they wanted and they should go for it.

            How would they move forward without her? Nina had wondered that since the moment she was gone.

            She supposed they had to. That she wouldn’t stop pushing them now. They had her memories. They had her words, gently nudging them to where they should be going, even now.

            At one point in the night, Nina stood up and held out her hand to Usnavi.

            That was their last night out on the fire escape.

* * *

 

            They planned the funeral so that anyone who wanted to could come. Pete painted every surface he could for the decorations, with Usnavi narrating everything Abuela had ever told him and Pete sketching in out in all the bright colors and bold lines that made up Abuela’s stories. It was beautiful. Perfect.

            They had no problem with flowers. Everyone brought a blossom or bouquet or something. There were so many colors.

            But there were so few words.

            Everyone’s lungs had been shattered. Their breathing was stuttered. Their throats were clamped tight. Few people could squeak out condolences, and they were only small ones, ones you get in greeting cards.

            Usnavi didn’t blame them. He’d been choking on his own breath the whole time.

            The silence grew comfortable. But yet it was still so wrong, with all the flowers, the vibrant paint splatters, the tears of well meaning, love-filled people.

            Usnavi glanced around at all of them, the ones he knew dearly and the ones he’d merely smiled at in the bodega.

            One of the latter shifted on his feet.  He took one step forward. Everyone looked at him and he nearly stepped back again. But in a forcefully steady voice and wringing hands, he managed to say the first words that weren’t some variation of “she will be greatly missed.”

            “You know, there was this one time when I was in school… and Abuela…”

            And that was the first story. And after that there were so many more. Kevin’s was next, all about how Abuela would come over and spend hours upon hours with Nina, teaching her recipes and Spanish and stories of her own. Nina added her own perspective to those, only elaborating on how intelligent and caring Abuela had been.

            And soon everyone was laughing and smiling and sharing their own stories, and the room was bright again, and the tears were few and far between.

            Vanessa was next, to Usnavi’s surprise. “Oh! Abuela showed me this dance once…”

            And she did several quick but smooth steps, grinning and twirling and suddenly it was like they weren’t even at a funeral. Vanessa grabbed Sonny’s hands and he joined her eagerly, catching on quick to whatever samba she was doing, but adding in his own moves that made everyone laugh.

            Vanessa started teaching everyone else, and soon the whole block was dancing Abuela’s dance, and when Kevin took out his guitar and he and Nina began a song Abuela had taught them years ago, they were singing her music too. Usnavi found himself dancing and singing along unknowingly.

            At one point or another, Benny got out his trumpet and blasted along with the other instruments people had brought out.

            At one point or another, Vanessa found Usnavi and took his hands, helping him with the steps and showing him how to spin her around.

            At one point or another, it stopped being a funeral.

            And then it was like Abuela would never actually be gone.


End file.
